I've been thinking about this for a while. I fancy myself a scientist, which means I use the Scientific Method to figure things out. So I make a hypothesis, and try like crazy to falsify it, and at the end maybe there's some interesting not-yet-falsified ideas.

I train myself in all sorts of science, I keep real genuine article scientists as friends and compatriots. But y'know, I probably wouldn't be called a Scientist by the vast majority of people in this day and age.

So I started thinking. What is someone who does science who doesn't have impressive scientific credentials? And I came to - a Cowboy Scientist.

Cowboy Science is trying to figure out how things for practical reasons or for curiosity, not for academic or institutional prestige.

A rancher who tries to figure out what the best mix of water and grazing and movement for his cattle by takes notes, making a guess at what'll work, and testing that guess - he's doing science. But no one would call him a Scientist with a capital S.

But that's science, y'know. That's the nice thing about science - it's defined by doing it. You can put on a fancy hat and get a fancy piece of paper and not be doing science, and you could be out on horseback paying attention to your cattle and doing science.

I'd say the defining feature of cowboy science is trying to scratch a personal itch. You don't get the credentials, but then, it seems a lot of the interesting breakthroughs come from cowboy scientists who aren't as concerned with establishments and credentials and academic prestige. Years later we look at them as model scientists, but in their lifetime they're seen as sort of rogue not-serious cowboys. But y'know? I like that. Cowboy science it is.

It seems to me that the cowboy scientist has as perhaps his sole benefit that he doesn't have to account for confounding factors and he is not forced, though he can, come up with an underlying model. Relativity can't only work on earth or even this solar system, it has to work everywhere. Having a theory or a prediction be able to apply everywhere requires larger trials and greater resources. But because a cowboy scientist is doing his study in/of a specific location or phenomena, he doesn't have to have it apply anywhere.

If my goal is to pinpoint likely voters in Cambridge, MA, it is easier for me to work with the data from Cambridge and accept that it only applies to the voters of Cambridge. A Scientist would have to come up with a model and make predictions that would be testable anywhere and verified everywhere. As a Cowboy Scientist, I simply need to make something that works here. It isn't so much about finding something interesting as improving the life of himself or others. Finding something interesting is a secondary concern to finding something that works.

However, I can't speak for others without more data. Could others chime in here? Why do you do Cowboy Science?

I agree with Alessandro, peer reviewed work is so much stronger. But I think there is another problem for the cowboy scientist, or at least for anyone other than the cowboy scientist himself.

Science done on a small scale for a specific problem is always going to be poorly controlled. It will always be difficult to find out the confounding factors in the specific set up of the cowboy. The problem comes with sharing the work, sure it may work, but why? Will it work in other situations? What makes it work? The cowboy scientist not only lacks a community he lacks the ability to have an unbiased trial.

For what it's worth, in my opinion peer review is just another credential. It's crucial to the effectiveness of science, as are other credentials, in a world where we're not going to run off and verify every experiment we read about ourselves.

I have no problem calling anyone who practices scientific rigor a scientist. But without the various trust-bolstering third party endorsements, he may have trouble effecting change in the rest of the scientific world.

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The equal-odds rule says that the average publication of any particular scientist does not have any statistically different chance of having more of an impact than any other scientist's average publication. In other words, those scientists who create publications with the most impact, also create publications with the least impact, and when great publications that make a huge impact are created, it is just a result of "trying" enough times. This is an indication that chance plays a larger role in scientific creativity than previously theorized.

- http://www.amazon.com/review/RV4Y43WKRK6LO

I look at the sheer volume of work produced by someone like Einstein in science, or Robert Heinlein in fiction, and y'know what? Much of their stuff isn't good. Much of Einstein's observations outside of physics are pretty bad and off-base, he recommends courses of political action that were tried later and led to totalitarianism. If he were alive today, he'd no doubt say "mea culpa" - "I was wrong", especially in his opinions on the Soviet Union.

But it doesn't matter, because his good work is incredible. Even trying to understand special relativity makes it clear how amazing his work is (best guide to relativity for laymen I've found). It doesn't matter if you get some things wrong if you get one or two important things right.

I'm working on a writing project inspired by James Altucher and his idea that we have four bodies to care for; physical, mental, emotional, and spiritual. This framework has made me reflect on my role as a parent and how I've changed emotionally.

When I first had kids I felt emotionally weak. Like a scrawny thirteen year old (which I was) entering a gym full of weights (which I did) and struggling with weights too heavy (which I tried). As a parent I didn't understand what it took emotionally to raise kids and felt bad when I failed. I was an adult, didn't I know what to do? Shouldn't emotional maturity grow as your kid does? That person had no idea what to do.

Then I found my emotional alter-ego. The Cowboy.

The Cowboy sits high in his seasoned saddle, moving cattle from Tulsa to San Antonio. Over the plains he's seen a hundred times, he feels the change in air pressure as he crosses the hills. The dry breeze. His hat and spirit are both firm but not brittle as they ride along with the cattle.

Suddenly, a calf breaks away from the herd. In the past this was trouble for the young cow-hand. This made his heart race and grip tighten. He became worried and started to mentally run through the list of things that could happen to the animal. The calf could break a leg or run off a cliff. It could crash into a wolf den or impale itself on a hidden danger in the sagebrush. The young cowboy would gallop full steam to return the calf.